Guy Hammersley; or, Clearing his Name — page 177: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

168 GUY HAMMERSLEY. ‘‘Oh, yes, I lived there myself once and have a friend there—Bert Arlington. Perhaps you know him?” ‘‘Arlington! Of course I do, anda nice fellow he is. He can tell you about me, and convince you that I am all right, if you did find me butting my head against a brick wall like a Harlem goat. But I must leave you here. By the time I get back to my rooms everything will have quieted down, and I needn’t meet anybody till morning, when I hope I shall have quieted down too, thanks to you.” ‘To me!” exclaimed Guy in surprise. ‘‘ Why, I haven't done anything to help you, I am sure.” ‘‘Why, yes, you have. You came up and spoke kindly to me when you didn’t know I had money. I tell you, we chaps who are afflicted with wealth appreciate little things like that. But good-night. Here is my card. I shall expect you and the boy to-morrow night about eight.” He held out his hand, shook Guy’s heartily, then turned on his heel and strode rapidly back towards the heart of the town. ‘‘Well, of all the queer adventures I ever had, this is the oddest,” soliloquized Guy, as he quickened his Own Steps in order not to miss going home with Ward. *‘T’'ll ask Bert all about Shepard to-morrow. Maybe he’s acrank, and is putting on airs about his being so wealthy, and all that, although I don’t believe it of him. There’s that outspoken frankness about the fellow that impels me to trust him almost in spite of myself. Wonder what Ward will say to the affair?” He reached the drug store just as his friend was (E@NMIELOOO KS (€@) m